


The Lives of Lesser Sharks

by suhmayzooka



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Minor Matsuoka Rin/Yamazaki Sousuke, Missing Scene, the sourin is very minor so don't expect it, this is focused on the non-relay members
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhmayzooka/pseuds/suhmayzooka
Summary: Like the sharks embroidered on their jackets, the members of the Samezuka swim team are ruthless in the water.  They tear into their opponents and descend at the first scent of an enemy's blood.You wouldn't know that from the way they act on land, though.(or, free! according to the background samezuka characters)
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. Samezuka Boys

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO many years ago (2015) i wrote a crack fic that was basically a retelling of seasons 1 and 2 (mostly 2) from the pov of kazuki minami (the guy with the lovely hair and purple eyes), because i thought "huh, i wonder how all the other swimmers are handling rin's dramatics." sadly, the laptop i wrote it on crashed and i lost it...or so i thought, because i found my flashdrive and lo and behold~ the lives of lesser sharks was intact!
> 
> reading back what i wrote at age 14 was... uh, well! i'm glad to say that, although i'm not perfect now, i have definitely improved and i will continue to improve as i keep writing! but there was definitely something salvageable in what i had, so i've decided to rewrite it with one change--i've expanded the fic to encompass multiple povs from multiple samezuka guys. i feel like they all deserve a chance to share how they coped with the relay team's commitment to acting out an angsty teenage drama. surely there are some guys who just watch the main cast's antics and go "...chill, it's just swimming" right??? 
> 
> with that said, i hope u enjoy this example of how i'm procrastinating posting my longfic <3

You can recognize the boys of Samezuka Academy anywhere—if not by their all-white uniforms (because some genius thought dressing a bunch of reckless teenage boys in ivory was a good idea), then by their eyes. You’ll never see a Samezuka boy with the dull eyes that can sometimes afflict his peers. A Samezuka boy is always watching for an entrance to win. Whether in the pool, or in the classroom, or talking to an attractive stranger, a Samezuka boy knows what he wants and will take it.

He doesn’t always succeed (especially in the situations of the ‘attractive stranger’ sort), but the benefit of being a Samezuka boy is the fact that there’s never a long way to claw back from a fall. Not to say that there are _no_ failures at Samezuka (there are _many_ ), but with every stumble a Samezuka boy can rely on the fact that he has an army of fellow Samezuka boys to support him and ameliorate whatever situation he’s gotten himself into. Samezuka Academy doesn’t produce quitters or cowards, and no one is alone.

Most high schools mold kids into young adults. Samezuka takes boys and turns them to sharks. 

But the boys of Samezuka are just that—boys. To outsiders, they’re a formidable group of young men. That’s a nice impression to leave, especially in meets, where half the competition can be won psychologically before any team gets in the pool. When the façade drops they’re kids staying away from home for the first time and surrounded by a group of other, newly-independent boys. It’s a lot of learning outside the classroom; no parents around seems at first like a great escape from the confines of rules like _wear deodorant_ and _don’t leave your clothes on the floor,_ but there comes a point in any roommate situation where at least one snaps, and now you have a bunch of teenage boys learning how to account for others’ feelings and opinions. It’s tricky and uncomfortable to many young people accustomed to these conflicts smoothing out on their own.

Adolescence can be a rather selfless time.

The boys of Samezuka emerge victorious in athletics and in academics, and they learn to apply that zeal to their friendships. It’s a routine for the boys to be outswum and outperformed when they enter Samezuka—it’s humbling; upperclassmen and teachers agree that you can’t succeed at Samezuka if you have an overinflated opinion of your abilities—and the same applies to their interpersonal relationships. For the most part, they apply a hands-off, _laiseez-faire_ approach to dealing with new boys struggling to adjust to the new, all-male environment. 

The boys go through a regular cycle of hating each other and then becoming extremely close. Their teachers and coaches don’t expect the level of cattiness and drama that occurs between them (sexist stereotypes bite them in the ass as they realize they can never escape the emotions of teenagers, not even at an all-boys school), but watching the boys navigate the seas of social situations is every bit as entertaining as it is satisfying.

When they’re not training, you’ll see the Samezuka boys gallivanting through the streets of Iwatobi. Watch your step; they try to be gentlemen, but they’re still rowdy and growing into their ungainly bodies, and in their clumsiness they’ve accidentally knocked passersby off the sidewalk. They frequent sports shops and cheap restaurants in equal enthusiasm. 

The Samezuka swim team boasts some of the best athletes in the region, but when they climb out of the pool, limbs wobbling after whatever grueling drill their captain demanded of them, they slip back into their roles as Samezuka boys. Panting, they tease each other and joke to make up for the hours spent exerting themselves. They walk under a great arch in the shape of a shark’s open jaw to retire to their shared rooms, where they stare helplessly at their homework and fill the silence with discussions about girls. They sleep and dream of fame, of gold medals around their necks and of beautiful women (and, in some cases, men) by their sides. They dream of their families and their homes; they dream of worlds with no homework and of swimming with their friends away from zealous captains and strict coaches. 

That’s another thing that sets them apart. You can see it in their expressions when they stare off into space, or in their vocabulary when they discuss their plans for the future. Samezuka boys dream.


	2. Uozumi Takuya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takuya's first year at Samezuka Academy includes long practices, overdramatic teammates, and the benefits of skincare routines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day, when i say i'm writing a short drabble under 100 words, it will actually be a short drabble under 100 words. today is apparently not that day.

He was accepted into Samezuka for swimming, first and foremost, somehow. Takuya always had an affinity for the water, and what he lacked in natural talent, he made up for in passion. 

He was never the star of his elementary or middle school swim team, nor the swimming club he was part of. He was certainly above average, and his teams won a decent amount, but he never felt like the most valuable member and had no reason to.

Yet there was something Samezuka saw in him. In his final year of middle school, his team came in second place at regionals. Takuya had wanted to slink off and hide in the locker rooms, probably mentally replay every stroke he made, the timing of his dive and turns, to see if there was _anything_ he could have done differently, when some adults clambered down the bleachers to talk to him. Not in the mood to interact with strange men, combined with his emotional state, he made to skulk past them, but was interrupted by the way they _praised_ him. They said they were impressed with his potential, and that his backstroke form was the best out of all the swimmers, and asked if he had possibly considered applying to Samezuka Academy?

He hadn’t, because he didn’t think his swimming was strong enough, but the men gave him more information which he dutifully relayed to his parents when he met them in the natatorium’s entrance. They discussed Samezuka Academy for several weeks before conceding that he could apply, and upon his success were the most exuberant he had ever seen them. 

Applications were stressful, but actually _attending_ Samezuka meant new levels of work and pressure. He found this out the first week of school, when Captain Mikoshiba ordered all new “recruits,” as he called them, to dive into the water and do an IM as a warmup after introducing themselves. Takuya thought there didn’t seem to be a point to introducing themselves by name; Mikoshiba addressed them by whatever distinguishing features he noticed about their swimsuits, and barked things like “YOU’RE OVEREXTENDING YOUR ARMS, SPEEDO!” and “ROTATE YOUR SHOULDERS MORE, LEGSKINS!” and, to Takuya’s arrhythmic attempt at butterfly, “USE YOUR _HIPS_ , RED, NOT YOUR KNEES!”

Takuya wasn’t expecting the first day to be as intense as it was, and judging by the state of his peers, neither were they. After seeing each member’s strongest and weakest strokes, Mikoshiba separated them into various lanes and assigned drills, which he watched them complete for the rest of the night.

Takuya had never swum so hard before that first day. He was dizzy when the final whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. His abs burned on the way back to the dorms (Mikoshiba made him practice his undulating dolphin kicks _agonizingly_ slowly), and he collapsed headfirst onto his mattress, not having the strength to hold himself up.

For what it was worth, Mikoshiba _did_ know what he was talking about, and the first practice ended with him drawing up different regimens for the newcomers. And when Takuya and the others arrived to the pool the following afternoon, he announced that he had practiced matching their names to their swimsuits and wouldn't allow them into the water until he accurately recalled each swimmer's identity.

* * *

“We’ve got a good team this year,” said Mikoshiba as he led them in their dryland warm-ups. Takuya, elbows starting to burn as he planked on the hard poolside floor, turned his head to look at the captain. Mikoshiba was statue-still, holding himself up effortlessly and speaking without any note of strain in his voice. “We did well at Nationals last year, and I think we could’ve gone further if we had more of a hardass as a captain. I’ll push you guys more than he pushed us.”

“Tanaka-senpai _was_ a hardass,” another third-year said. Mikoshiba shook his head and started to do push-ups; the rest of the team followed suit.

“ _We_ were able to get as far as we did because we pushed ourselves,” the captain growled. “ _We_ did all the pushing, not Tanaka-senpai. He was a good guy, major respect to him, but he should’ve done more. And that’s why,” he said, raising his voice, “I’m kicking all your asses all the way to Nationals! We’re going for gold this year! Alright, that’s enough, into the water!”

* * *

Mikoshiba approached him in the locker room after practice. Takuya haphazardly drew his towel tighter around him, staring straight ahead to avoid making eye contact with Mikoshiba, who was parading about in underwear that somehow left even _less_ to the imagination than his swim briefs did.

“Uozumi Takuya, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Coach and Sugimoto-sensei told me about you,” he said, nonplussed about their levels of nudity. “They saw you swim in a relay last year and asked you to join Samezuka on the spot?”

Takuya nodded.

“Your backstroke is pretty good. If you shave off a few seconds we might consider taking Nishimura off the 100-meter backstroke and putting you in. How’s that sound?”

Nishimura was a third-year with a fierce scowl. Takuya glanced at him across the room; he had just emerged from the showers and was glaring at the group of first-years who had crowded in front of his locker.

Mikoshiba apparently took his lack of response as an assent, because he beamed and laughed out a loud, “I can count on you, Uozumi!” before sauntering off to dress himself. Takuya blinked, the interaction not fully registering for a few moments until after Mikoshiba had left him.

Nishimura had fixed his glare on Takuya. Takuya kept his head down, pulling on his pants, and then scurried out.

* * *

Takuya’s roommate was another first-year swimmer named Minami Kazuki. He was a few centimeters shorter than Takuya was, with light brown hair that swept across his face and big, violet-colored eyes. Takuya didn’t even know people _could_ have purple eyes, but Minami did and Takuya was absolutely _not_ jealous.

He was also, in Takuya’s opinion, a bit vain, but he wondered if it was because he had never met a boy who had a dedicated skincare regimen. When Takuya entered their room, he found Minami doing his homework with thick green… _something_ smeared on his face.

“Captain’s already decided which event he wants me to swim in for regionals,” was how Takuya greeted him.

Minami looked up from his books. Takuya tried not to burst out laughing at the sight of his face.

“Did he?” asked Minami incredulously. “He hasn’t given _me_ anything.”

“That’s cause you’re shit.”

Minami frowned and stuck his tongue out. Takuya rolled his eyes at the childish act, but he was relieved to be in a much lighter atmosphere than the locker room.

“At least I’m not ugly,” quipped Minami.

“At least I don’t spend an hour each night putting shit on my face.”

“It’s not shit! _Some_ of us just don’t want to have awful skin like you do!”

“What awful skin?”

“That!” Minami got up and started poking Takuya’s forehead. “That _awful,_ ” poke, “ _dry,_ ” poke, “ _chlorine-ruined skin_!”

“ _Fuck_ , man! Fine!” Takuya threw his bag onto the floor, then sat down next to it. Minami cocked his head quizzically, reminding Takuya of his dog back home (and those big round eyes of Minami’s _certainly_ didn’t help); Takuya, resigned, threw his head back against the wall.

“Uozumi?”

“Fix my skin.”

“ _What_?”

“Put that shit on my face,” said Takuya, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “And then _never_ bother me again.”

Minami’s big violet eyes somehow got wider, and then he was rummaging through his drawer. 

“Is there a girl you want to impress?” Minami teased. “Someone back home? Or from the girls’ school? Skincare is actually a _vital_ part of attractiveness; I had quite a few girlfriends back in middle school, before I decided to give up my womanizing ways to come to this place.”

Takuya didn’t doubt Minami at all. Hell, even _he_ thought Minami was handsome. Annoyingly so, but if it meant putting this crap on his face would inch him any closer to looking as good as Minami, he would endure it. Begrudgingly.

Thankfully, Minami was merciful enough to avoid teasing Takuya. He did his work meticulously, and once he was satisfied, he tapped Takuya’s shoulder and said, “All done, _Uocchi_!”

Takuya shoved him in the chest to hide his smile.

If Takuya let Minami continue this routine for the rest of the school year, that was his business and no one else’s.

(But when he passed by girls in town and noticed the way they smiled at him, he puffed out his chest and reminded himself to thank Minami).

* * *

Takuya was placed on the roster for the 100-meter backstroke. He spent the next week avoiding Nishimura’s wrath.

* * *

When Matsuoka Rin joined the swim team, the main thing Takuya noticed about him was the way he always looked a few seconds from bursting into tears. He hid it well under vitriolic sarcasm, but Takuya had spent enough time crying in showers to recognize it.

Nitori, another first-year and apparent favorite of Mikoshiba’s (for whatever reason), was absolutely enamored. Mikoshiba seemed glad to pawn the responsibility of watching Rin off to Nitori, who would follow Rin around like a lost puppy, obediently reporting back news of his _Matsuoka-senpai_ ’s emotional state to Mikoshiba. 

Matsuoka was undoubtedly a great swimmer. After one practice, he’d explained to his starry-eyed teammates that he trained overseas, in _Australia._ Most of them, Takuya included, had never been out of the country: not for vacation and certainly not for the sole purpose of swimming. When they tried to inquire further about what life in Australia was like, Rin would act cagey and avoid their questions.

Takuya figured something happened in Australia to make him all emo like this. Whatever; as long as it didn’t affect either of their performances, Takuya would ignore it.

Takuya eventually got to know the other first-years on the swim team. Aside from Minami and Nitori, there was Nakagawa Shouta, who rivaled Takuya in backstroke, and Iwaishimizu Tooru, a strong breaststroke swimmer. They were roommates too, and the four of them—Takuya, Minami, Nakagawa, and Iwaishimizu—gradually spent more and more time together, to the point where it was strange _not_ to see them in the same vicinity.

Ever-observant Mikoshiba noticed this, and while showering after a particularly taxing practice he told Takuya to focus on himself instead of his friends.

“It’s cool that you’ve got your own friend group,” he said, “but you rookies need to focus your energy on the team. Your diving times are slow.”

Mikoshiba apparently made similar remarks to Matsuoka, because at their next practice Matsuoka stalked out of the locker room and refused to look anybody in the eyes.

“There’s always something to fix,” Matsuoka hissed. Takuya exchanged a look with the others, but they had all decided not to intervene when Matsuoka’s tone dropped like that.

* * *

“That Matsuoka guy is a _pain_ ,” Takuya groaned, flopping onto his bed. A sheet mask was clinging to his face, courtesy of Kazuki (they were on a first name basis now), and he was careful not to ruin his friend’s handiwork.

He heard Kazuki hum in thought (sympathy?) and the sound of a page turn. Even now, the guy was studious. Takuya had given up seriously studying ever since he qualified for regionals; Samezuka as a whole had done well, and now Mikoshiba was driving them harder to have similar results at the tournament. 

Of course, for whatever reason, that meant Matsuoka’s angst was somehow even more unbearable. He’d stay by himself in the locker rooms to brood, go out to run around campus late at night, and scowl teary-eyed at his food.

Occasionally, he’d growl out the name “Haru” and then clench his fist to the point where his nails left crescent-shaped marks in his palm. Takuya had no idea who Haru was, but if they were the cause for Matsuoka’s anger, that was enough information to know that Takuya hated them.

Matsuoka was _infuriating_.

“Maybe he’s just going through puberty,” Kazuki suggested. “My older brother had horrible mood swings.”

“We’re all basically the same age,” Takuya sighed. “If it’s puberty than how the _hell_ are the rest of us able to function normally?”

“You think you function normally?”

Takuya ignored that comment. “I think Mikoshiba’s picked up on it, too. You think he’ll snap out of it if the captain talks to him?”

“Maybe?” Kazuki peeled off his own sheet mask and motioned for Takuya to do the same. “What can Mikoshiba do, though? Send Matsuoka to a therapist?”

“He’ll do something,” said Takuya.

Kazuki crossed his arms. “I feel bad for the rest of the relay team. I don’t know why Mikoshiba put him on the lineup; Ueda—he’s swimming breaststroke—told me that Matsuoka’s been an asshole to all of them. Apparently very difficult to work with, and it’s been cutting into Mikoshiba’s own personal responsibilities.”

“Selfish dick.” Takuya outstretched his hand, no longer wanting to think about Matsuoka’s drama. “Now, give me the moisturizer.”

* * *

Not even a summer festival could elevate Matsuoka’s mood, but Takuya didn’t care. He and Kazuki, along with Tooru and Shouta, were extremely grateful for the opportunity to interact with people outside the familiar cast of characters.

Namely, _girls_.

Takuya was too young to have fully appreciated his co-ed elementary and middle schools. He was too young to understand how much he would miss people who could hold conversations without weird jokes. And he appreciated his new friends, he really did, but _man_ , the lack of female _anything_ in his life was starting to get to him.

He would never admit it out loud, but he was grateful Kazuki had introduced him to the benefits of skincare. Then fashion, and grooming, until Takuya felt confident in his appearance for the first time in many years.

It was Kazuki who inspired Takuya to cut his hair. Takuya had never really cared about it before, but Kazuki woke him up one night to show him a member of a boy group he followed (Takuya had no interest in idols, but he could admit some songs were unfairly catchy) with an undercut and coiffed hair, whisper-screaming, “You _need_ to try this style, Uocchi!”

So he did, and that was another very good decision on his friend’s part.

Tooru and Shouta had noticed Takuya’s new look and teased him about whether he was searching for a girlfriend. He teased them back, and Kazuki reminded them that they all were very lonely and it surely wasn’t good for their mental health to spend their adolescence without experiencing romance. He even had the _nerve_ to say it was unnatural for guys their age to go so long without dating.

Truth of that declaration notwithstanding, the four of them eagerly anticipated the festival; when the night came, they put on sleeveless shirts that exposed their arm muscles and preened themselves to the best of their abilities.

While Takuya was the middle of marveling at the different foods on display, Kazuki grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off to a relatively secluded area behind a vendor. Tooru and Shouta were there too, wearing identical determined expressions.

“No matter what, we’re going back to campus with girls’ numbers,” said Kazuki. “We’re fit, young, and attractive.”

“We’re funny,” Shouta added.

“And polite gentlemen,” proclaimed Tooru.

“We’re total catches!” exclaimed Kazuki, pumping his fist. A group of third-years chose that moment to pass by and shoot them strange looks; Kazuki had the sense to look sheepish.

“Meet back here in an hour,” said Tooru in an attempt to relieve the awkwardness. “Our bachelor days are _over_.”

Those turned out to be valiant but fruitless words. Of the four of them, only Kazuki had any luck procuring a girl’s number, and Takuya was sure she did it out of pity. Takuya tried to compliment a girl’s _yukata_ , neglecting to realize that she was posing for her boyfriend to photograph. The humiliation he felt as the guy growled at him was too much to bear, and he swore off flirting for the rest of the night.

They did eat a lot of squid, though, and returned to their dorms with full bellies. That made up for their unchanged relationship statuses, and forgot all about their failed endeavor.

(Kazuki texted the girl he met when he woke up the next morning. She blocked him later that afternoon. Takuya decided to have mercy on his friend and never mentioned her again, but in truth it was reassuring to know that even the perfect Kazuki was as pathetic as the rest of them).

* * *

Takuya and Kazuki were roommates in their hotel for regionals. Kazuki had managed to pack most of his skincare products, and the two resumed their evening routine without interruption. The night before regionals, Takuya welcomed the feeling of the sheet mask as a distraction from how nervous he felt.

“I’m a second away from shitting myself,” Kazuki admitted as he combed his hair.

“Same.” Enough time had passed and Takuya peeled the mask off his face. His skin stung slightly. “I don’t even care about disappointing myself if I lose; I’m just scared of how the captain would react.”

Kazuki paused. “The captain’s not _unreasonable_. I don’t think he’d be angry if you don’t do well.”

“No, I think he’d give an ‘inspiring’ speech that’d just make us feel worse.”

“He _would_ ,” agreed Kazuki. He shook his hair out; Takuya wondered why he was putting in so much effort since they weren’t going anywhere but their beds, but he knew better than to pass judgement on Kazuki’s routine.

* * *

He ended up coming in fifth place during the tournament. Mikoshiba didn’t seem to care all that much. “You’re a first-year,” he said, “so it’s expected. You still qualified to be here, and that’s already very impressive. Keep training and do better next year.” And then, to rub it in, Mikoshiba placed first in the 100-meter fly, securing his spot at the national tournament.

Mikoshiba had taken Matsuoka off the relay team. Takuya was surprised when he saw Matsuoka’s name was no longer listed on the lineup, and evidently Matsuoka was shaken, too. Takuya and the rest of the Samezuka swim team watched him lose spectacularly in his single event, the 100-meter free, and then storm off. Mikoshiba sent poor Nitori after him; Takuya prayed Matsuoka wouldn’t be too harsh on the guy.

“Sore loser,” drawled Shouta as they watched from the bleachers. “None of us won and we never acted like this.”

“Think Mikoshiba will kick him off the team next?” wondered Kazuki.

“This sure is a brilliant display of poor sportsmanship,” added Tooru.

“It’s embarrassing,” said Takuya. “He’s representing all of us when he’s in the water, and he decides to act like… like _that_?”

They all concurred. Swimmers from other schools were definitely watching their team with pity and confusion, expressions Samezuka swimmers should never receive. They were supposed to be the sharks, dammit, ferocious swimmers who fought for gold, not—not whatever Matsuoka just did.

Takuya was starting to feel uncomfortable with all the attention the team—and, by extension, he—was receiving, so he excused himself to go outside. Maybe nature would heal him.

He hoped his little excursion would make him forget all about Matsuoka’s antics, but the moment he opened the door he heard that recognizable voice yelling, and then an unfamiliar man’s voice yelling back, and then a lot of scuffling.

He craned his head. Matsuoka was rolling on the ground, straddling one of the Iwatobi guys. Takuya couldn’t tell if they were fighting or something else, so he closed the door and tried to forget what he saw.

Matsuoka certainly had a proclivity for theatrics.

* * *

As if his performance during and after the 100-meter free wasn’t enough, Matsuoka decided to swim with the Iwatobi relay team. Mikoshiba’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he watched; Sugimoto-sensei looked like he was seconds away from an aneurism. Takuya couldn’t blame them. His own blood pressure was rising higher than it had any point that day.

Other schools surveyed them in bewildered shock. _Yeah_ , thought Takuya, drawing his collar up to hide his face, _this is Samezuka’s best. A guy who doesn’t know he can’t join a rival school’s swim team_.

* * *

Mikoshiba wasn’t heartless. After he and the rest of the Samezuka swim team overcame the stupor induced by Matsuoka’s behavior, he made the decision to accept Matsuoka’s behavior and keep him on the team. Takuya was surprised, but he could understand the decision; the mismatched Iwatobi team _had_ come in first, even if they were immediately disqualified. If Matsuoka could swim like that for his own school, they’d be in great standing for nationals.

* * *

“We’ll do better next year,” vowed Kazuki their first night back in the Samezuka dorm. He had decided to forego his usual skincare routine that evening, instead choosing to wash his face once and avoid other products. He was sprawled on Takuya’s bed instead of his own for some reason, listening to his iPod.

Takuya, to his own surprise, had gone ahead with his regimen. Loath as he was to admit it, this procedure had become a habit for him—a _relaxing_ habit.

And _damn_ , did he need to relax after whatever the hell had just happened.

The two of them jumped at a loud knock on the door.

“Yo, it’s us,” came Shouta’s voice.

Takuya greeted him and Tooru, stepping aside to let them enter. Shouta and Tooru were in their room as often as Takuya and Kazuki were in theirs; their friendship had dissolved most of those boundaries, and each of the four friends was welcome anywhere.

“Can you _believe_ the captain’s not punishing Matsuoka?” said Tooru, flopping onto Kazuki’s bed. Shouta sat cross-legged on the floor, while Takuya leaned against the wall.

“I think he made the right decision,” remarked Shouta. “Clearly, Matsuoka’s really talented. All he needs is to get his head on straight, and then he can work on winning for Samezuka.”

“He seems less douchey now,” Kazuki noted. “Swimming in that relay might have been stupid, but I think it helped in the long run.”

“It’s only been one day,” said Takuya.

“How could swimming one relay cure his emotional state?” asked Tooru. “It’s just… _swimming_? You can’t even communicate in the water.”

The four thought for a moment before conceding that, while they couldn’t understand the therapeutic effect of a relay, it was nonetheless a valid experience and they wouldn’t question Matsuoka’s gentler disposition.

“Maybe we should try for the relay next year,” suggested Takuya.

“That’s a good idea,” said Shouta. “I’ll do backstroke.”

Takuya raised his eyebrows. “ _I’ll_ do backstroke.”

“Both of you can try out for backstroke,” said Kazuki. “I’ll try for free and Tooru, you for breaststroke?”

“I’d be up against Nitori,” said Tooru.

“Then you’re making the team. Not sure who’d be butterfly.”

“Matsuoka?” offered Takuya.

“I’m quitting if he’s on the relay team,” said Shouta. “You can take the backstroke position if that happens, Takuya.”

“Sure,” said Takuya.

“Great,” exclaimed Tooru, clapping his hands. “Now that’s all decided, I have a question to ask you.”

His eyes were full of mirth as he pointed at Takuya’s face. Takuya’s breath caught as he realized what Tooru was pointing at; Shouta was snickering along with him, and he decided that he was about to die of mortification in his high school dorm room.

“Is that,” asked Tooru over Shouta’s laughter, “a _sheet mask_?”

Takuya kicked them out.

* * *

“Maybe we can convince those two to use my products,” proposed Kazuki, once Shouta and Tooru had left and Takuya’s complexion became less red. “Shouta’s got acne and Tooru’s gonna start wrinkling early at this rate.”

Takuya shut him up with a pillow to the face.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr and twitter @ suhmayzooka


End file.
